


Child's Play

by I_am_the_Veil



Series: we were once kids of gotham [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Arkham (Video Games), Batman: Arkham - All Media Types
Genre: Batman - Freeform, Gen, High School, Minor Stiles Stilinski/Original Male Character(s), Original Character(s), Original Characters - Freeform, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Riddler - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-08-20 01:24:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16546148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_am_the_Veil/pseuds/I_am_the_Veil
Summary: Jessie's life is just starting to get back to normal and her feet are happily on the ground. The incident long behind her and her third year of high school kicking her butt. Jessie thinks its just a normal day but that turns out to be false. Who could be behind such childish and dangerous things? Why are they doing this anyway? Can't there just be one normal day in Gotham?Sorry, Jessie maybe next year.





	1. Seven A.M; Waking up in the Morning

    Jessie knows something's wrong as soon as she turns the corner. She had let her guard down throughout the day, compounded by the time that has passed since the incident. That's what she calls it in her mind. For a while, other people called it a lot of other things, in reference to her, but over time it became known as simply, the incident. That way, it could sound like some sort of war or a stupid accident.

     However she thinks of it, the incident remains in the past.

     Which is why, for a split second when Jessie rounds the corner and sees those joke teeth scattered across the ground forecasting their own form of chaos, her immediate thought is that she is dreaming. But she remembers how she got here. She just woke up this morning and then left her bed, then her room, then the kitchen, and so on and so on.

     Her second thought then is to absolutely lose her goddamn mind-freaking the fuck out because holy shit how did he find me. This resulted in enough of a fight or flight or freeze phenomena to freeze Jessie in place for her to see that there was something, off. About this whole situation, well, more off than joke teeth on the ground in Gotham city.

     That being that they were painted with question marks.

     "Mayhaps, a collab?" Jessie spoke out loud, vocalizing her situation; something she had learned during her time at Arkham. "Mayhaps, a bomb? Mayhaps, I should leave right now."

     Just as Jessie was about to act on that, one of the teeth began shaking and chopping and mashing it's little plastic teeth together. "AH SHIT." Freezing up again the girl's eyes closed tightly along with her fist until she gained enough mental control to slowly start breathing again and counting to ten. Once that was over with she opened her eyes to survey the situation to find a path without the little chompers of spooks.

     One set, in particular, Jessie notices has something taped to the top of it. Then, like all good stories start Jessie said, "What could possibly happen!" And went to go pick it up. This one hadn't been chomping or moving around like the other ones, in fact, it had been completely still.

     Upon closer inspection, there were words etched into the top.

    "Often held but never touched, always wet but never rusts, often bites but seldom bit, to use me well you must have wit. What am I?" She mumbles to herself, reading the riddle out loud. As a person who did not break the 90% percentile threshold on the SAT Jessie can say with quite a lot of confidence, she is not qualified to answer this question. However, like most teenagers living in a first world country, she does have immediate access to all the world's knowledge.

     She types the question straight into the Google Search bar on her phone. The first hit, www dot riddles dot com backslash six three three has the answer.

     "A tongue?" Jessie asks absolutely no one in particular. "That's nasty." She muttered to herself as an afterthought. But little did Jessie know that was not the nastiest part of this exchange. For when she finished that thought, a little pop noise could be heard from the teeth she was clutching quite tightly in her hand. As she loosened her grip to see what had happened her immediate reaction is to recreate the cinematic masterpiece that is the now extinct vine of, "This bitch empty. Yeet." And hurl that sucker into the Andromeda galaxy. What her brain goes with is shrieking at WAY too high a decimal and dropping the teeth within milliseconds.

     There, within some probably 99 cent joke teeth is a real-life actual tongue. Probably human knowing this situation! And carved into the tongue, yes you heard her CARVED, is some sort of symbol that looks like it's supposed to mean something.

     This is the point in time where Jessie closes her eyes and takes three deep breaths in order to ground herself before she has a full blown panic attack at oh, seven fifteen in the morning. She is considering just turning around and going home, calling it a mental health day, but she does have that test in English she doesn't want to miss and-

     "Don't you dare touch me!" Jessie screams as she feels the telltale presence of a hand on her shoulder. "I got a knife!"

     "Whoa, Jessie it's me, Connor." He spoke calmly, quickly removing his hand and holding them up in a gesture of surrender. "I stopped by your house to see if you wanted to walk together, but your mom said you left. Then I heard you scream and I got really worried. Are you okay?"

     "Okay?" Jessie repeats. "Does it look like I am okay?" She says in a hysterical tone as she gestures wildly to the street that is COVERED in joker teeth. "There is a tongue. It touched me. I want to die. Now it is on the ground." Jessie believes that pretty much covers it. All she wanted to do was go get her mediocre public school education.

     "It's okay Jessie. No one is here. There's no Joker, nothing. It's just a whole bunch of Dollar Tree toys okay." He looked back up at her reassuringly. She knew he was right. She also knew that if he kept being this nice to her it would be harder to keep up her manifest of 'no dating until I'm not crazy'. She rubs her arm on her shirt because she still has the tongue feeling on her hand.

     "You're right. Fuck these bitches." She said with a false amount of confidence before kicking one of the toys down the street. "Who even does this."

     "I'm not sure but, I know we can find out. " Connor replied leaning down to pick one up off the ground. Jessie just grabs her man's hand, because she knows first hand this is NOT worth it. Of course, the price of that is now they are holding hands, which isn't really all that bad. Connor's hands are really soft and they are just the right size to fit within Jessie's and she-

     "Let's get going! I have Spanish first period and Ms. Vea always gives you the, 'I'm not mad I'm disappointed' talk whenever you're late." Jessie spits this out at breakneck speed. She turns around and figures it would be the worst thing she has to walk an extra mile since Connor is still holding her hand.


	2. Take a look! Inside a book! Reading rain- BOMB!

    “I'll wait.” It’s only after these infamous words are spoken that Jessie realizes that she does in fact, need to drag herself away from Kaitlyn, and to her own seat. “I hope Y'all got the homework done, I’m looking at you Kevin, because you’re going to need it for the project we’re starting today.” There was a cacophony of groans around the classroom.  “Oh come on. Don’t be like that.” Her government teacher, Mr. Lancaster shushed, who was basically just a younger and better-dressed version of her sophomore history teacher, Mr. Bates.

     “But we have a test in McCloskey’s tomorrow! And it’s on Kafka!” Katherine complained. Jessie wasn’t her brand of person, that being, someone who needed to have a GPA over 4.0 at all times, but she wouldn't mind hopping on the complaint train if it meant getting this project extended. Plus, after the Joker attacked the fundraiser at Wane Tower’s Katherine wanted to go to they had really become good friends. 

    “Well then, good thing this isn’t due for another week!” Mr. Lancaster replied. “But I suggest you get on it.” Then gave them one of those looks that said,  _ No you won’t be able to do this all the night before. _

      At least she still has a year before she needs to worry about college applications. The thought still makes her shudder. 

     “What’s it even about?” Tate asks, still on the top of her game as ever.

    “That’s an excellent question Tate. How about we talk about that.” Mr. Lancaster responds turning on the projector and pulling up one of his staple powerpoint presentations. “Since this is the 300th anniversary of the founding of Gotham City I thought we could take a gander into the past and learn about the changes in the executive power throughout the years. Flora, I think you’ll think that’s extra topical given the past election….”

    Jessie starts tuning out what’s happening around her as all her focus suddenly narrows to the front of the room where the powerpoint is now showing some of the original founding documents of Gotham, or something like that. The point is they are old, they are written in cursive, and they are all sealed with a strange looking symbol in the corner that Jessie swears she recognizes from somewhere. Maybe it’s on some architecture somewhere? That doesn’t seem right though. She could have sworn she just saw that.

     “I want to see your rough draft on Friday just to make sure everyone is on the same page okay!” Mr. Lancaster concludes, snapping Jessie from her reverie. Whatever. It doesn’t really matter where the symbols are from. Probably leads to some sort of cult or something. 

      Exactly two hours later, when Jessie sets down the oddly heavy book of old governing documents to get a head start on her project she realizes that the symbol was probably actually a cult calling. That does not exactly matter, however, as she is staring down at the bright red numbers that are slowly ticking closer and closer to 00:00.

     The Gotham Public Library does not seem like a good place to die. How did she even end up in this situation, to begin with? Oh yeah, that’s right. She remembers now. It’s because she wants to get that one hundred percent to secure her grade. Now that she thinks about it, all of her troubles have come from trying to be a good student. 

    That’s the message life is trying to send her, isn’t it? Drop out of school. After school, she had politely declined Connor’s offer of walking her home stating that she was going to instead catch the subway to the library and get a good read through of some primary sources for her paper. Which wasn’t a lie, she was going to the library, but she also didn’t want to walk home with Connor because her head is still reeling from this morning and she doesn’t trust herself not to throw herself into his arms twenty minutes in and declare that they will be married in the morning. That seems a little over the top and Jessie knows that everything still isn’t functioning at full capacity in her ole brain box. 

    So instead of walking home she jumps on the green line and heads down to the Gotham Public Library, enjoying the fresh smells and sights of Gotham in the fall. The trees are changing colors, the sky is a crisp blue, the rats are stealing pizza for the winter. All is good. Even the resource librarian, a nice woman named Martha who seems to have a thing for funky earrings, is totally cool with letting her into the ‘technically college student only’ section because ‘knowledge shouldn’t be regulated’. She even slips Jessie some Laffy Taffy. Which, okay isn’t the best candy but it was the strawberry flavor, which in Jessie’s humble and correct opinion is THE BEST flavor, she wasn’t going to like, give it back or anything. She just shoves it in her pocket for maybe a surprise snack later.

     Succeeding all that came the thudding of the books on the table in the back east corner, the subsequent dusting off of said book and opening only to find that there is not just writing of now dead old white men, but an actual real-life bomb. 

      Jessie has sworn off bombs a loooong time ago. Now, she is facing down what might be the last forty-five seconds of her life. Looking back at the ticking down dumber in blaring red that screamed: RUN, SCREAM FOR HELP, THROW ME OUT THE WINDOW. 

      That last one just might work. She goes to grab the blasted thing and hurl it out the window but finds she can no longer lift it. It’s stuck to the table and is absolutely, Not. Coming. Off. 

Thirty seconds left.

      “There has got to be some way to turn this thing off.” Jessie panicked quietly to herself. She was scanning the pages for some kind of sign when she turns to the right page. She knows it’s the right page because she sees that every inch of the page has been covered in dripping green question marks. 

     Two villains? One day? This can’t be happening. This should not be happening. By all statistic likelihood, this can never happen. 

     She glances over whatever kind of fucked up nonsense Mr. Riddler has come up with today. 

**_‘I can be chopped but I’m not a carrot_ **

**_I have rings but I’m not an onion_ **

**_I can be climbed but I’m not a mountain_ **

**_I’m made of wood but I’m not a table_ **

**_I have a trunk but I’m not a car’_ **

    “What kind of Tom Fuckkery is this?” Jessie swore out loud. 

Fifteen seconds. She pulls out her phone. 

    “Hey Siri, I can be chopped but I’m not a carrot. What am I?” She whispers as soon as she hears the telltale ding.

     “I’m sorry I didn’t understand that.”

Ten seconds. 

     Jessie shoves her useless device back in her back pocket and feels something in there. She pulls it out because like, what else is she going to do, she’s seen mythbusters and knows how bombs work. It’s the Laffy Taffy from earlier. She flips it over reading the joke. It’s a fitting end, isn’t it? Joker couldn’t get her to die and yet here he is, at the end of her life. Taunting her. 

    Jessie never told anybody, but she believes that sometimes, she can still see him in the corners of her vision. Just on the cusp. Always there, but never present. 

Five seconds.

_ What kind of tree grows in your hand?  _ Is what The Wonka Company came up with.

    “That’s easy. A palm tree.” Jessie speaks, loud and clear to absolutely no one in particular. 

The timer stops with 00:00:82 left to spare. “What the heck?” Jessie says, now to her audience of the used-to-be-life-threatening-bomb. “That was the answer? A tree? Found on a Laffy Taffy wrapper.” Jesus. Jessie wonders in how many dimensions she’s dead right now. 

    Also, that’s oddly peculiar for The Riddler. King of all Knowledge. Ruler of the Wikipedia Facts. Guider of the Random Information. It’s weird for him to… stoop so low? 

    But the bomb is stopped, Batman is probably on his way and Jessie has a paper to write and an evening planned to be spent laying on her couch wrapped up like a Chipotle burrito. 

     Her traitor of a phone then dings in her pocket. She pulls it out. Still standing over the bomb book, just in case it gets any ideas about becoming active again.

_ Hey. Ashley just sent in the group chat she’s performing her slam poetry at The Underground tonight. You wanna go with me? To support her, of course!!! _

    Three exclamation marks seemed a little ambitious, but she appreciated the Connor who could have any girl he wanted, bless his heart, was still waiting around for Jessie and her bucket of mental health issues which overflowed into a lake of self-esteem issues, which was probably sitting in a sea of PTSD. 

     She shoots back that she would love to, of course, and that he can pick her up at eight. 

Jessie then figures that this little research excursion has given her more than she has bargained for and goes to shut this book tight and hand it back to Martha like nothing has ever happened.      

    As she is closing it she does take notice that some of the words on the page have been blacked out. Whole sentences really are not unable to read, leaving only certain words visible. But Jessie, being of sound mind now, she has a certificate to prove it and everything, does not read it, does not look at it, does not do anything but shutting that thing and heading back to the reference counter.

     After all, she; ~~has a~~ ~~ date  ~~  hangout to get to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi gamers!... (hold on)... (let's try that again)...  
> Hi Readers!... (nailed it!)... hope you enjoyed chapter two :) keep an eye out on Tuesdays for new chapters.   
> I am so happy to be writing this and having xpatxperience as my best friend and editor. We're having a blast putting this together.  
> ...  
> (also thanks for the comments they really did make my day.)


	3. It’s not a date! (It’s a date.)

      Jessie bust through the front door to her home, racing up the stairs and quickly shutting the door to her room. She throws her backpack in the corner where it lives when she's not shoving it into her locker and forgetting about it for eight hours. Then, she promptly face plants on to her bed and screams into her Bed, Bath & Beyond duvet cover for approximately thirty-seven seconds. 

      After expelling from her body the fact that she is going on a not-a-date-date, she stands up like the badass villain punching woman she is and opens her closet. She digs around for a second before pulling out,  _ The Dress.  _

_ The Dress,  _ as Jessie refers to in her mind, was purchased at a vintage store that seemed to pop up and then disappear completely within the span of a week. Her only purchase was this fifties style cocktail dress which was black, because somewhere deep down she’s still a thirteen-year-old goth girl, but adorned with bright red cherries all over. Paired with some kitten heels she feels ready to blow Conn-, uh everyone away. 

     Racing to the bathroom to throw on some makeup; nothing special, cat-eye and a red lip. She knows the drill. It became a regular thing for them to go out and have a friend ‘date, not a date’ date. The first time was ‘group bowling’ where the entire group canceled minutes beforehand. The second time was visiting the Gotham Museum of Science with their lab group and everyone else really wanted to see the gravity exhibit as opposed to the anatomy one, so Connor went as Jessie’s escort because, buddy system - obviously. Such things continued throughout the year. 

      Once her eyeliner as ready to cut a man she ruffled her dress and did a couple of poses that she’d seen Forever 21 mannequins doing in store windows last week. It felt good. It felt like she was somewhere in the realm of her old self. Maybe just by one degree of separation, she could have been at this same time, the same place and was okay. 

     To finish up her getting ready routine she scavenges through her purse making sure she’s got everything ready. 

     “Wallet? Check. Phone? Check. Multitool? Check. MetroCard? Check. Pepper spray? Check. Keys? Check. Knife? Check. Okay, it’s all here.” She says to herself. 

      Sliping the bag over her shoulder she casts a glance at the alarm clock which sits perfectly balanced between a stack of books she’ll never read and the ones she’s read a million times. 

     “Seven forty. Perfect.” She mutters, trying to push down the butterflies of anxiety and stress that are starting to crawl up her throat. She descends the stairs and leaves her mom a note on the counter telling her that she will be back at a respectable hour and not to worry. That is if she comes home at a respectable hour. After that, by all means, light up the bat signal.

     “Well! Don’t you look like something out of a magazine!” Jessie spins around to see her mom standing in the doorway to the kitchen. 

      “Mom!” Jessie’s face cracks into a smile. “I was just leaving you a note. I’m going out with Connor tonight, but I’ll be back before eleven.” 

     “Oh, well I am so glad you kids are getting out.” Her mom says strolling over and giving Jessie a hug. “And remember if you feel uncomfortable and need to call me for any reason-”

      “Mom!” Jessie exclaims. “It’s not like that. We’re just going to see Ashley perform.” 

      “Well, I am sure that’s what Connor told you.” Jessie’s mom retaliates. “But I know how much that boy likes you, so if you need me for anything. Don’t hesitate to call okay.” Before Jessie can insist that she is not dating Connor there are three sharp raps on the door.

     “Speak of the devil!” Her mom says cheerfully. “Go get your man!” Jessie just rolls her eyes as she squeezes her mom one last time before heading over and opening the front door. 

    When she opens said door, what she finds inside is one (1) very attractive looking Connor. He too is dressed to the nines, or perhaps she should say, the fifes, because he too is sporting an amazing 1950’s look. But the sexy James Dean version, not the whole fad with the mustard colored sweater vests and wide ties. Those look good on one man, and his name is Mr. Rogers. Connor manages to recover first,

     “Uh, Wow! You look more amazing!” He stutters out. “Not to say you look shit other times. But just, uh wow.” This causes both of them to flush and unhealthy amount, Connor due to embarrassment and Jessie because being pretty is not something that comes naturally to someone like her. And the fact that Connor, a certified card carrying hot person is saying SHE’S the killer one here? That’s an amazing feeling.

     “Have fun on your date you too.” Jessie's mother calls out from the back room.

     “It’s not a date.” Both of them call back in unison together. Connor extends his hand to take Jessie’s arm.

     “May I.” He asks.

     “You may.” Jessie replies hooking her arm around his and enjoying the way their bodies press together as they walk towards the subway station. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed. This week's thanks are going out to my wonderful editor and friend Grace! miss ya can't wait to see ya!


	4. Two teens chillin’ in a basement. Five feet apart cuz’ they’re not dating.

     The Underground was one of  _ those  _ places. You know. The type of place that has all of those beige sofas that simultaneously feel amazing but look like they have been there since the Nixon administration. It’s the “oh sorry we only serve almond milk” and “Hi I’m Amy. She/her/hers.” There were people there with strange piercings and ever stranger tattoos. 

      And Jessie? Jessie was  _ living  _ for it. This is probably to most excitement she’s had since- well. Just in a long time. She’s out and with a cute guy and is finally starting to be able to breathe in a crowd. Which is good because with the number of people packed into this basement, hence the name, it’s all she can do but grip Connor’s hand tight as they weave through the crowd of much more casually dressed people and to an empty table in the corner.

     “This looks like a great spot,” Connor said cheerfully, pulling out a chair for Jessie.

     “This looks like the only spot!” Jessie retaliates. “I did not know this place was so popular!” In fact, the only reason she knew of it at all was that one of the women who she met in Arkham had suggested a picking up poetry to cope with-

     She just said she showcased her work and it helped.

     “I guess this also has something to do with the YoungArts foundation?” Connor said pulling off his jacket, which, wow. Okay. Those are some  _ amazing  _ arms. Look away, Jessie. Stare at something else. 

     “Oh, I didn’t know that. I’m just so excited to see Ashley.” Jessie replied. “I know school really isn’t her thing so it’s nice to see her succeeding in her field.” 

      “Hey,” Connor whispered reaching out to hold Jessie’s hand. “Just because something might be hard now doesn’t mean it will be forever.” He gives it a squeeze and deep inside of her she stores away the memory of how his large hands feel against hers; how they fit together just right. 

      “I’m going to grab us something to drink,” Connor said straightening up. “Do you want anything in particular?” He asked.

     “Just water.” She replies. She’s not sure she can stomach anything else. Connor gives her a thumbs up and heads back into the crowd of people. Jessie, alone for the first time with nothing for her brain to fret about, turns to wander and floating around until it can find something to latch onto and worry about. 

     And like many things in Gotham City. It just kept coming back to how absurd her day has been. It went from zero to a hundred real quick for a mid-October weekday. First, the street of teeth featuring an actual real live tongue? That’s like an 11/10 on the creep scale. Then the symbols in class-leading her to the library book that totally was not meant for her’ and a bomb? Just. Wow. 

      What stops Jessie from having a full-on flashback moment is Connor setting down a glass of water in front of her and his reassuring hand running down her back.

     “One water for the tall drink of water over here,” Connor says in a joking tone and shooting Jessie a wink. “Penny for your thoughts?’ he continues sitting down across from Jessie. 

     “What?” Is what Jessie manages to say at that moment.

     “What were you thinking about. You had that hundred yard stare going on.” Connor explains, smiling at Jessie with that crooked smile which he knows is not fair to use. It’s irresistible. 

     “Oh,” Jessie exclaims, a pale rose to dust her cheeks. “I’m just happy to be spending time with you.” She tells him. It’s not a lie because she thinks Connor is half of her sanity at this moment. But she’s pretty sure that the subject of death is a mood killer. Plus, now she can enjoy seeing a blush creep up Connor’s collar and spread across his cheeks.  “As friends of course!” She blurts out not thinking clearly. “Just, two friends. Seeing another friend perform. You know, friend stuff.” 

     “Right! This is what friends are for!” Connor adds. Now they were both flustered for no reason. Jessie takes the world’s most awkward sip of water and tried to find something in the room they can talk about. Looking up to the stage they saw a slim gentleman walk on stage in all back with a beret, glasses, and a goatee. A real beatnik poet look. Someone who just screamed, “I’m a cool poet guy! Pay attention!”. But as two teens dressed up like the 1950s, they were in no place to judge. 

     “Good evening! I would like to welcome everyone here tonight to witness some absolutely remarkable poetry. It really means a lot to these young artists that their community comes out and support them. So with that, you aren’t here to see me. Please welcome Anna Vargas performing,  _ All the Space in my Mind _ ’.” With that, he gestured off and everyone snapped as the apparent Anna Vargas stepped out onto the stage. 

      There were quite a few poets. Some were good, some dramatic, some very shy, and some were just… let’s just say odd. Finally, it was Ashley’s turn. Jessie and Connor cheer and full on clap as they come on stage because there is nothing more powerful than the support of friends. She smiles and waves at them. Jessie smiles back and waves vigorously. Then, just as Ashley steps up to the microphone the entire room goes pitch black. 

     As in, Jessie can see nothing at all. She sticks her hand out in the darkness reaching for what she hopes to be Connor’s hand. She grabs something that feels like a human and just hold on to it for dear life. 

    Suddenly, just as the darkness arrived it left with the illumination of the room under a dismal green color. The entire room was illuminated by the projections that scattered the wall casting horrendous shadows.

     And Jessie couldn’t breathe. Her lungs were collapsing because this could NOT be happening again. This was just a dream and soon she’d wake in her bed with the Joker far,  _ far  _ away from her. 

    Then the projector whirred to life and a grainy video footage started playing across Ashley’s torso and the entire blank stage behind her. 

    The pixels started to clear and Jessie could see a man who looked as if he had just gotten up after laying in bed for three days. Jessie knows that look well. He’s sitting somewhere just before middle age and his black-rimmed glasses keep sliding down his nose. Jessie watched as his eyes flickered left and right almost fearfully.

     “Good evening my fellow-” He coughs. “Greetings, cretins. I would say sorry to bother you but…” he pauses, “I’m not!” He starts to laugh, then cough, then kinda pathetically weeze for a while. 

    “What the fuck is happening?” Connor whispers in Jessie’s ear. She would love to answer that so then they could both know but she is just as at a loss as he is.

     “Well, Batman. I will waste no more of your precious time.” The man continues. 

     “Batman’s not here you idiot!” Someone from the back yells. The man on the screen has a momentary flash in his eyes where he is debating whether he could jump through the screen and throttle the man.

    “Sometimes,” The man begins, “I wonder how someone who can be the product of billions of years of evolution and gene selectivity could end up as stupid, useless and utterly-”

     “Holy shit! He’s on the balcony!” Another crowd member shouts. “Batman’s on the balcony!”

     “Congrats! You have eyes!” The man replies sardonically. “Now we can get this show on the road. Okay Batman, riddle me this.”

Jessie is a fool. Jessie is a god damn fool for not figuring this out earlier. She knows that face. It might be twenty pounds skinnier and five years older and have not showered in a week and littered with cuts and bruises and… Jesus. What the hell happened to Edward Nygma?

 

_ In marble walls as white as milk, _

_ Lined with skin as soft as silk, _

_ In a fountain crystal clear, _

_ A golden treasure does appear. _

_ There are no doors to this stronghold, _

_ Yet thieves break in and steal the gold. _

_ What is it? _

 

    “You have one hour Batman. One,” was the last thing The Riddler said before the screen went dark, the lights came up, and all was back to normal. 

      Jessie acting on what she assumed to be the pure instinct that inhabits mothers during car crashes pulls Connor up and plows through the crowd out into the street. She picks a direction and starts walking as quickly as possible away from The Underground, Ashley’s poem will have to wait because she is NOT dealing with one more person from Arkham. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So its official we made it so xpatxperience can help me out more with this story. I'm so excited about what's coming up and I hope you enjoyed what you just read as well as what's to come. :)


	5. Wakey, wakey! Eggs n Steaky!

     “Well.” Connor says breaking the silence. “That was not ideal.” They are sitting on the subway now, heading in some direction towards somewhere. Wherever is farthest from those green lights and question marks. Central City, Metropolis, fucking Missoula, Montana if she has too, but Jessie is NOT getting caught up in anything else. 

     Jessie is also sure this will make at least the eleven o'clock news. Probably not ten o'clock, so her mom might miss it, but Jessie doesn’t even know how to begin to tell her mom what's happening right now. 

     “You’re not wrong,” Jessie replies leaning her head back and hitting it softly against the cold window as the depths of the city rush by outside. “Where are we even going?” Jessie asks.

     “Well, I figured we can’t let that megalomaniac ruin our daaaaaaa,” Connor coughs the saddest cough Jessie has ever seen, “day out.”

     “It’s nine at night.” Jessie deadpans.

     “All the more time to do things before curfew!” Connor says cheerily. “I happen to know the best cure-all when things like this happen!”

     “So all the girls you hang out with seem to be followed by an assortment of Arkham rogues?” Jessie lov- likes Connor a lot, but she seriously doubts that there is a WikiHow page on getting over brainwashing induced PTSD. She is sure that ever her psychiatrist thinks she's a wacko. And her psychiatrist used to work at Arkham. 

     “Nah, just this one girl,” Connor replies. “But, I happen to like her a lot and the internet? So helpful!”  He flashes Jessie this killer grin then, all of his stupidly perfect teeth shining at Jessie screaming ‘everything is gonna be just fine!’. Which, was never a feeling Jessie had anymore.

     “Alright.” Jessie says, taking the plunge. “What magical remedy is gonna fix this?” She huffs.

     “Ahhh.” Connor replies leaning into Jessie space. She can smell is Old Spice deodorant at this range and it makes her heart do a little bit of the tango, flopping around in her chest, convulsing. “That’s a secret.” He smirks. 

     Four stops later and a block south, Jessie gets her answer.

     “The Egg Factory?” Jessie questions. The disdain and disbelief dripping from her words. The quaint little diner was certainly not what she was expecting. Although the mascot, an anthropomorphized egg with a grin too loopy and Mickey Mouse hands was certainly in the running to look like a Batman villain.

     “That’s right!” Connor said, determined to be an ever-flowing fountain of cheer. “Breakfast foods are the superior food group!” 

     “Who are you? Leslie Knope?” Jessie asks, rolling her eyes, but deep down - right next to the part that still likes Falling in Reverse is absolutely smitten.

     “I will take that as a compliment!” Connor says pulling the door open and gesture for Jessie to enter. “Now, right this way, madam.”

     Waffles, as it turns out, cannot cure paranoia and anxiety. They can, however, mute it for a while. The background noise seems to fall away, as Jessie devours her plate of red velvet pancakes. Which are smothered with syrup and it’s honestly so much sugar she thinks she is going to go into a coma. 

     “So,” Connor says after he sees Jessie come for air after snarfing down maybe three pancakes, “what rating do you give this fine establishment?” 

     “I’m not quite sure how you found this place in the first place.” Jessie comments. They never come to this part of town. “ButI would give it thirteen t-shirts from Goodwill.” 

     “I have no idea what that means, but know exactly what you are talking about.” Connor replies and both teens let out a laugh.

     “Everything tasting alright over here?” Their waitress who Jessie hadn’t noticed approaching asked breaking up their laughter. 

     “It’s great, thank you. You guys slay the waffles every time.” Connor answers smiling brightly. Jessie nods along in agreement. These waffle could stab her and she would thank them at this point.

     “You guys are too sweet.” She response, swatting away at them. “I’m just glad young kids like you still come to places like these. And on a date no less.” She sends Jessie a wink.

     “Oh uh! That’s not. I mean we- friends. Friends that go- and she’s gone.” Connor stuttered out as the waitress who had better things to do than learn the intricacies of Connor and Jessie’s relationship was whisked away by someone waving for the check. 

     A blush was quickly climbing up Jessie’s neck. This wasn't’ a date. In order for something to be a date, you have to have a romantic intention and even though Jessie likes Connor and Connor like Jessie that doesn’t make it a date. Just because they both want to date doesn’t make this a date. Just because Jessie is afraid that she can’t provide what Connor wants in a relationship aka being a functioning person, doesn’t make this a date. 

     Jessie’s inability to control her own damn brain doesn’t make this a date. 

     But she could control it know? She knew what she wanted? And hell! She deserved it! She wasn’t better but she as getting there! And who’s to say that she would even ever be all the way better? Was starving herself of what she wanted because she felt inferior really the right thing to do?

     This was a lot of emotions to be had in a diner that really isn’t all the great at 11:24 at night. 

     “Wecanmakethisadateifyouwant.” Jessie vomits out of her mouth at a speed that would make the Batmobile shutter. Connor blinks for a moment looking both very confused and slightly blushing from the waitress.

     “Uh. I did not catch a single word of that.” Connor replies. “Did you say something about this, maybe, being an uh-.”

     “I said this could be a date if you want it to be!” Jessie says. But before Connor could process this let alone answer they are interrupted again.

     “Everything tasting alright over here?” The same waitress asks with the same coffee pot in hand. She throws them another warm smile. The exact same warm smile.

     “Uh.” Connor mumbles looking between Jessie and the waitress, “Yes? Everything tastes just fine.”

     “You guys are too-” She cuts herself off, jerking suddenly, “Everything tasting alright over here?” 

     “Connor, what is happening?” Jessie asks. Something about this is not right. They need to get out of here. They need to get out of here NOW.

     “Everything that-Everything-Every.” The waitress’ voice starts to distort and garble and generally sound like a noise that would be created by shoving thirty screws down the disposal. Looking over her face he saw her eyes that used to be dark brown were now glowing and green. Jessie attempted to move back farther into the booth while Connor spoke up.

     “Is everything alright?” Connor asks. God bless his heart, always trying to help other people. It is one of the reasons Jessie likes him so much. The waitress suddenly shot her arm forwards grabbing Connor’s jaw rendering him speechless. Jessie, the one who holds the knife in the relationship, shot up and grabbed the waitress. 

     “You let him go, otherwise we are going to have a big problem.” She threatened. The patrons around the diner and spun around to watch, responding to the action, but it seemed the staff remained still. As Jessie looked at them closer- it wasn’t just still, it was motionless. 

     Before she could yank Connor away and dive bomb for the window. The whole diner was plunged into darkness. Then just like at the venue, lights started to flick back on, only this time they were all a sickly shade of green.

     “I think it’s time we played another game.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Dear what could happen next? I know, xpatxperience knows, do you? look out for next week.


	6. Humpty Dumpty Got Nothin’ on Gotham

     Jessie shoots up out of her seat. She’s up and ready to fight in all housewife dress and two-inch heels that are surely doing her no favors. That’s not going to stop her though. The chef is lurching and jerking towards the front, where the only exit is. She is about to make a run for it when Connor suddenly grabs her and pulls her back down.

     “What are you doing?” She spits at him. “We need to get out of here now.” Connor doesn’t say anything, just points with a shaking finger to the hostess who is now standing on top of the bar. Her shirt is ripped off revealing her torso to be made up of metal bits of pieces, and oh yeah, a claymore mine. 

     Where Riddler got a claymore mine? Who knows! None of Jessie’s life makes sense anymore!

     “That’s right.” The loudspeaker crackles with The Riddler’s voice. “Now that I have everyone right where I want them. We’re going to play a little game.” There is a small cry of terror from one of the women sitting in the booth behind Jessie and she feels her fingernails dig into her palms. 

     She just has to stay calm.

     “Let’s see if you plebeians., have the combined intellect to defeat a mind such as mine!” An unbearable noise then shot its way through the speakers and into the diner. Jessie threw up her hand s trying to keep that god awful noise out. But what is stranger is that when it finally stops, Jessie who can just barely hear swears she hears the words, “Sorry about that.” Follow through the speaker. Which is the scariest thing she has encountered today. 

     She also takes another look around the cafe. The chef has made it to the front door, sealing it shut with a metal bar bent around like a twist tie. However, the chef himself seems to be slumped over, out of commission.

     “Ah, that’s right! Listen up.” The Riddler prattles on as if everything is going according to plan. “You are all going to line up single file. I trust you can do that, it really is a kindergarten level skill.”  

     Nobody moves.

     “Line up or one of my ever so helpful assistants will gut someone and you will have to navigate around their still cooling corpse.” 

     Everyone shoots up out of their seat, Jessie and Connor included, and make a line down the aisle of the diner. “Oh yes! I forgot- I almost forgot, you idiot. “There is some crackling noise and mild muttering. “All electronics can be placed in the box that my lovely assistant is bringing along.” Jessie reluctantly disposes of her phone into the box that is held very precariously by one of the robot henchmen. 

     “Don’t worry! you’ll get them back! if you survive, that is.” This is followed by a very long silence.  

     Some seconds later a loud tapping noise came through the speakers. “Is this working now? Test test. Can you all hear me?” Nobody answers that. “Ok now that I have that under control, everything is under control. Here are the rules.”

     Jessie wonders if it is too late to just jump out of the window. But she has Connor and he’ll never make it in time. 

     “One. There is no Batman to save you. Two. Death is an option. Three. You can not look up or behind you from this point on. If you do its instant death. Four. Being placed on your head is a hat.” Jessie flinched at the tremendous amount of force on her neck as the waitress put the hat on her head. “Those have bombs attached.” A cruel laugh sounded. “All you need to do is guess the color of your hat correctly, white or black and you get to walk out of here. If you move from your line, you die. If you look at your hat, you die. If someone tells you your color, you die, if there is any communication about colors, YOU ALL DIE.” A collective gasp could be heard. “You get five minutes to deliberate.” 

     “Okay! Everyone, please take a deep breath. We can figure this out.” An older man spoke up, or at least he sounded like an older gentleman.

     “Stay calm?” One woman shouted. “How are we supposed to stay calm! We are all going to get out head blown off!”

     “Well, statistically 50% of us are going to get our heads blown off.” A younger man who Jessie could see in front of her commented. Jessie started to feel weak at the knees. Her brain was pounding inside her skull causing all her thoughts to feel like stab wounds. Suddenly, she felt a warm hand encompass hers. Connor, who was standing directly in front of Jessie was somehow able to tell that Jessie was standing on the fine line between functionally terrified and outright breakdown.

     “This can’t- I don’t- Someone’s got to be coming right?” A teenager no older than Jessie herself, who was currently hyperventilating down Jessie’s neck cried. Jessie squeezed Connor’s hand and said,

     “It’s all going to be okay. We have five minutes let’s use them wisely and we can all get out of this.” Jessie said, her voice not breaking once.

     “The girl is right.’” The same older gentleman from before spoke. “I know this problem. All you have to do is count the number of hats in front of you. If there is an even number of black hats, say black. If there is an even number of white, say white.” 

     “That can’t be right.” The same cynical man said. “There’s got to be more to it. It’s the Riddler for Christ’s sake.” 

     “Yeah.” Connor spoke up. “What about the first person? How are they supposed to know.” There were several seconds where the man didn’t respond and Jessie had thought he was out of answers, but then he spoke quietly,

     “It’s a 50/50 chance.” 

     “Oh okay then.” The same stuck up man said scoffing. “Someone is just supposed to give up their life like that for your plan?” 

     “Considering I am the first one,” then man rebuked softly. “I believe you will have no push from me if my plan should go awry.” 

     “Alright!” The Riddler’s booming voice comes on over the speakers. “Your five minutes are up! The test has begun.” He stops to cackle and Jessie feels something crawling up in her blood. ‘Hope you all studied because I need your answers now.” The Riddler said, his voice dropping down to a serious tone that made Jessie clench her nails into the palms of her hands. Everyone's breathing becomes shallow as they listened to the people behind them and stared at the hats in front of them. Jessie could feel oxygen leave the room as the man behind them took a deep breath and said.

     “White.” 

     Jessie squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath. She waited for the cackle, for the laughter, for the explosion. But after three steady breaths, Jessie realized with wonder that, nothing was happening. Nothing of course, except for the next person in line saying, “Black.” 

     The girl who had previously seemed so frightened seemed to catch on that this might actually work and said with a solid voice, “White.” 

     it was Jessie's turn now. She too also counted the hats in front but the information she gathered lead her to believe her hat was also white. Her breath caught in her throat. What if she was wrong what if she miss counted? Quickly she counted them again. It was still white. Again she counted but the Riddler interrupted her. 

     “Tick Tock! Tick Tock! We don't have all day!” Knowing she couldn't wait any longer she clenched her hands together and spoke up.

     “White.” She spits out. If she died this wasn’t a bad way to go. Staring at the back of Connor’s head. Connor’s head which was attached to his mouth which was saying the words, “White.” 

     And the cursed had passed over their door and was no more harmful than College Board once the SAT book has been closed. They had passed the test. 

     “Alright students, your tests are in! Let’s look at the scores! I see that...” there was a pause. “What How is this possible?” There was crackling and scratching. “Not one person? That’s not- It’s not- No way. Not possible! YOU BEAT ME!” Hearing him scream everyone quickly threw their hats off.

     Hearing him scream sent everyone into a panic. Jessie caught sight of the overly pretentious man starting to take his hat off,

     “Wait what if it's not... Safe?” Jessie shouted but before she could the man had taken it off.

     And nothing happened. Everyone seemed to realize at the same time that they were in a much smaller amount of danger as they had previously thought to be. Seemingly after this revelation, everyone rushed to the door to try and unbend the bars holding it closed. Everyone ignored and blocked out the Riddlers angry rant about how they must have cheated. 

     “It won't unbend! How do we get out?” One woman yelled. Everyone was panicking by now and Jessie felt that telltale sign that she was about to lose it starts to build up in her.

     “Everyone get back!”  It was Connor’s voice which rang over the chaos. Parting and looking at the boy she found he had one of the metal bar stools raised over his head. Letting out a scream Connor ran up to the glass doors and threw the stool as hard as he could causing the glass to shader. Everyone rushed out avoiding as much glass as they could before they heard The Riddler.

     “I won’t let you win!” But everyone was already out when the explosion happened. Screams rang out and Jessie had to admit her’s might have been the loudest as she was shoved to the ground and covered with another body. She needed to get out of here. That explosion was for her she knew it, It was the Joker and he came for her because she disobeyed him and she wasn’t safe she could never be safe-

     “Jessie.” Connor was on top of her speaking to her slowly. “You need to stop screaming.” Jessie suddenly realized that the ringing noise was not from the explosion but her own high pitched scream. Jessie, who took Connor’s hand as he helped her sit up looked out into the flames of the burning building, but instead of seeing The Egg Factory in flames all she saw was that abandoned warehouse, her father’s death, and that stupid stupid Wayne party which started this all. Everything she had been feeling started to rise up from her legs to her stomach and came right out of her mouth onto the ground next to her. 

     Or what she thought to be the black asphalt which now held the last meal that would be served at The Egg Factory, where actually, in fact, a pair of black tactical boots. Tactical boots with a cape and cowl.

     Jessie, unable to control herself, threw up again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! sorry for a late chapter post. I just got my wisdom teeth out and seem to have forgotten to post but fear not for here is the chapter you have all been waiting for!

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, there kiddos.... whos ready for A SUPER BITCHIN STORY BY G-HIZZLE AND J-DUBS. We're back at it again bringing you the next installment of Jessie Lawson's life. this is the second story the first being 'Crazy Child'. I do recommend reading through that even though its four years old. For those who are coming back and reading this, I hope you find a lot of improvements in this story all over. I'm super excited to be writing this and super happy to have Grace as my editor with me.


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